To be Scared of the Dark
by fuckPUCK
Summary: Bunny Lewis is down on her luck when she remembers her old friend Billy Eames and asks to join him in Mombassa. When a new extraction deal comes around Cobb finds that Bunny might actually be useful.


A/N: This is my try at fanfics so tell me what you like and what I should change!

* * *

I was running out of ideas and time. The house I had been squatting in for over a year was condemned and closing, I had about a day before I was living on the street. I had been making my living by art, selling pieces at the park on sunny days and I had two gallery shows. My living situation was a choice, I would explain to people how I lived in the dilapidated house. There were a few of us in the house, many were addicts down on their luck, but it wasn't a crack house. Micheal, or Papa, who owned the house would let those who had been turned away in.

But now it was condemned and we had twenty-four hours to get out. I didn't have much more then what I wore, my art sold quickly so I didn't worry about it, but I was broke. Once my parents paid off my student loans I was a free bird to live off of what ever I wanted. Now I needed a new place to sleep and I didn't want to go to my parents. Last night as I laid on the egg-crate pad staring at the ceiling's ornate plaster designs I thought of where to go.

I hadn't spoken to Billy since my graduation two years ago, but he would do anything for me. I spent the day looking for coins and packing my two possessions, a necklace, a stuffed animal, my passport, and a few other belongings into a backpack. Papa gave me a tenner and a hug before I left. I asked around for quarters and searched for a payphone.

"Hello, Mrs. Eames?" I asked into the receiver.

"Yes, who is this?" she replied.

"Hey it's Bunny, Bunny Lewis," I sighed relived that I had the right number.

"Bunny!" she exclaimed, "How are you sweetheart?"

I shifted my weight slightly before answering, "Down on my luck actually. My house was just condemned and I don't have anywhere to sleep," I didn't want to outright ask if I could stay at them.

"Do you need somewhere to sleep?"

"Yes," I sighed.

"Where are you? Can you take the tube?" she asked her motherly habits kicking in.

"I've got about five quid, I should be good," I replied.

* * *

It took about an hour for me to get from Lewisham to West Hampstead. Mr. and Mrs. Eames were old friends of my parents and had one son, Billy. He was about ten years my senior but we were good friends growing up. I looked up to him, he was my older brother, more than my actually brother who was from my father's first mirage. Though he was busy with what ever business he did, he still had time to have tea, to cheer me up, or to celebrate my most recent achievements. Just before I entered university he disappeared.

I was the first to hear from him again, when I graduated. He told me about what he had been doing. I thought he was crazy as he explained extracting. He was in America when he called but he said he was about to return to Kenya, where he'd been previous to the most recent job.

I knew the secret of how to contact him. That night after supper I called, expecting a dead line, but a man with a thick accent answered.

"Hello, I'm calling for a Mr. William Eames," I said.

"Mr. Eames is not taking phone calls," the man stated.

"Please, check tell him it's Bunny."

The desk attendant grumbled as he put me on hold. Seven minutes later a click came over the line.

"Bunny?"

"Billy!" I exclaimed.

"What's wrong?" he asked quickly.

"Why do you assume that something's wrong," I replied.

"Because I told you only to call me if it's an emergency."

"Right," I mumbled, again time for that awkward stage where you ask to live with someone without asking. "I don't have anywhere to live right now."

"Then where are you calling from?"

"Your parent's house," I said quickly, I heard him groan at that, "Don't worry, they're asleep, they don't know," I explained quickly.

"So do you need some money?" He asked bored.

"Not exactly," I choked back my hesitations, "How about a plane ticket?"

"To where?"

"Mombassa."

* * *

The plane ticket was easy enough to procure, but getting there was harder. Billy didn't want his parents to know where he was, and I could respect that. I wasn't going to tell them, that was his job, but I had to tell them where I was going. You see when you travel to different countries, you don't just get on a plane and go.

Well, sometimes, maybe.

In order to go to Africa, I needed a few things first. One was a passport, which was easy, I already had one from a trip to Mexico with my parents. We were there visiting Uncle Victor for Dias de los Muertos, it was amazing, but I'll tell you about that another time.

Second was shots. I don't know about you guys, but I'm cool with needles, I've gotten quite a few piercings, I'm not too hot with the idea of something being put into me.

I told Mrs. Eames that I would be visiting a friend from art school. She made an appointment with her doctor for me to get the needed seven shots.

When you wear raggedy clothes at a doctor's office you will be stared at, no matter how clean your hair and skin is. My hair was a bit odd, after cutting out random half formed dreadlocks. There was a two bald spots, but I tried to brush my hair to hide them. But there was this one little girl sitting in the waiting room staring at me. Normally, I'm alright with kids, but this girl just kept staring, even after her mother told her that it wasn't polite.

I filled out the paper work. Current residence? I put down the Eames' addresses. In the past five months have you smoke cigarettes? Five months? How was I supposed know. In the past five months have drank to an excess? Sure I guess I have. Are you sexually active? That little brat was still staring. Have you had sexual relations with a person of the same sex. Do they really need to know that in order to give me a polio shot?

"A Miss Bernadette Lewis," the nurse asked the waiting room.

I mentioned to the nurse that I didn't like getting shots. I wish I hadn't. In order to make it less painful, or something, they would give me two shots at once, one in each arm. Rapid fire one after the other, they had all the needles lined up and one after. One prick, two pricks three pricks, four. My shoulders were covered in plasters when I left. I had worn a tank top that day, and now all the world could see snoopy dancing on my shoulders.

Next was to get some nice clothes. As I mentioned before, my clothes were old, I had been wearing the same five or so items for the past year. Mrs. Eames gave me a small allowance to go shopping with. I felt I was coming into a new part of my life, I wasn't living day to day any more, I could do what I want and know that there was dinner waiting for me.

"Yeah, I'll be good to go in like a week," I said into the receiver, "I can't wait to see you, too. You don't even know how much I've missed you."

"Who was that?" Mrs. Eames asked as I set the phone into the cradle.

"Uh, a friend from art school, Mike, he's the one I'm going to see in Mombasa."

"Is he a romantic interest?"

"No, he's just a friend."

"If you say so."


End file.
